


The Cards of Cupid

by aphchiptease



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cardverse, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, M/M, Nyotalia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphchiptease/pseuds/aphchiptease
Summary: Alfred F. Jones has just been bestowed the role of the King of Spades, directly following his parents' assassinations. He now must assume the massive responsibility of being king, despite never having even seen the other kingdoms' leaders and having no guidance other than that of his Jack. Will he be able to prevail?[Rated M for heavy angst]NOTE: While it looks to be a USUK fanfiction in the beginning chapters, I assure you - it is not. 100% AmeRus :)NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART - WARNING.





	1. The coronation of Alfred F. Jones

**Chapter 1**

 

_Alfred glanced up into Ivan’s face and began to laugh. Peals of laughter echoed across the silent throne room before Ivan’s guffaws boomed along side his. Gasps and wheezes swelled within the sparkling castle before eventually fading to silent tears of mirth. Alfred pressed a gentle hand to wipe the drop streaking down Ivan’s pale skin._

_“You really are one crazy bastard, Braginsky.”_

 

     The smooth and heavy material of a plush black velvet sash draped heavily over Alfred’s shoulders as he stared disheartedly into the mirror in front of him. From an outsider’s view, he supposed he looked rather dashing. He sported a smooth black and gray silk uniform that was tailored to cling to his frame, and a long fluttering black cape behind him tethered to his body with a glistening silver piece shaped as a spade pinned to a dark sash across his chest. His heavily tanned skin made his light freckles pop against his soft cheeks, and his bright blue eyes gazed grievously under thick lashes at his reflection while the servant nestled a luxurious silver crown studded with orange gems in fluffy, light honey-blonde hair. Alfred bitterly recalled the time which this crown - an ancient family heirloom passed down from generations of Spades royalty - had been placed on his head for the first time, only days ago.

     It had begun the night before his coronation was to commence, when Alfred had bolted upright to the sounds of his parents’ bloodcurdling and frantic screams. By the time he had raced down the stone hallway and forced his way into their room, a guard had already executed the murderer and his parents’ corpses had grown chilled. On his heels, the Jack of Spades Yao Wang skidded to a halt and tried desperately to search for a pulse amongst the mangled and bloodied bodies, but to no avail. Alfred had clung to the carcasses of his brethren and sobbed heavily, salty tears mixing with the blood oozing from the stab wounds, pooling into the crevices of the cold stone floor as his cries echoed off of the frigid, ancient walls of the building. The following morning the coronation took place, but instead of being filled with joy it was heavy with grief, and aching silence overwhelmed the courtyard. The only sound that could be heard as the glistening silver crown was placed on the new King of Spades’s head was the splatters of his tears against the cobblestone and the quiet sobs that accompanied them.

     The same day, traditionally reserved for festivities to be shared amongst the family of Spades royalty, was instead filled with Alfred and Yao sitting quietly and discussing Alfred’s impending hastily arranged marriage to Alice Kirkland, which would occur that day. Typically, the previous King and Queen of Spades would take months, even years after the Prince’s coronation to search for the best suited bride, but seeing as they had been assassinated and there was a lingering fear the event would repeat itself with the new leader, the leaders of Spades had taken it upon themselves to do the searching for Alfred and had found a suitable bride to produce children for the next heir to the throne quickly. Alfred bit back his resentful remarks, as he knew it was not Yao’s fault for the situation at hand. In fact, when he occasionally glanced into the familiar face of the Spades Jack, he saw pure and unfiltered stress. The sleek black hair was beginning to gray, despite his youth being not much older than Alfred himself. Yao was almost like a brother to him - with him since birth and there during life’s hardships and joy. And Alfred, like the rest of his family had, knew how hard Yao worked every day to keep the Kingdom of Spades functioning as well as it could be. Spades was undergoing a massive amount of poverty and overpopulation - because everyone’s export and specialty was farming, the value for crop dropped daily. While it was a culture-rich and warm community, it seemed like everyone nowadays was poor. The royalty of Spades took it upon themselves to give back into their kingdom and live less as royalty and more as commoners as they could, but problems would crop up everywhere. Alfred would now have to assume a massive amount of responsibility and problems that came with being the King of Spades, and didn’t have much of a lifeline to help him except Yao, and his new bride-to-be, whom he was going to meet for the first time at the altar today, knowing the time to attend to this was drawing near.

     “Your majesty,” Yao said suddenly, drawing Alfred out of his trance. “The time is now for the wed-”

     “Thank you, Yao,” Alfred said tiredly, not even bothering to let him finish. Yao eyed Alfred sadly, and Alfred knew Yao was well aware of not only Alfred’s dread of the wedding, but also his sexual preference, which did not match with his bride-to-be. It had been a secret Alfred shared only with Yao as they were blooming adolescents before the coronation - how Alfred had only seemed to take an interest in various males he saw around the courtyard. But seeing the peril Spades was in, Alfred didn’t have much of a choice - even if he’d rather keep the relationship strictly platonic, Alice would need to bear a child within the next year in order for the rising hysteria to be quelled. Alfred felt, ironically, powerless. He could do nothing to stop the wedding, nothing to revive his parents, nothing to ease Yao’s and his own stress and tension. He drew himself up heavily and stood from his chair, leaning on the back for support. Yao quickly followed, and they made their way to the dressing quarters, where servants awaited the new king. Yao ushered him into the room and as he turned to leave, Alfred impulsively bolted forward and wrapped his arms around the Jack’s back tightly. Yao hesitated only for a moment before turning around to properly return the hug tucking his head under Alfred’s chin to accommodate the height difference, and Alfred clutched his bloodless brother like he was a lifeline in a torrent of ocean, letting out a small sob. Yao ran his hand soothingly through his hair, not saying anything but understanding everything. They stood like this for a few brief moments more as Alfred simply held tightly to Yao’s clothed back and pressed his wet cheek into his head, feeling the smooth black hair and the familiar comfort it held, something that’s stayed the same since they were both very young. When Alfred felt he was collected enough to return to the heavy lead of reality, he gently broke the brotherly hug. His eyes opened to Yao’s staring bleakly back, before Yao ran a soft hand to wipe the tears away. Without another word, the Jack turned and exited the clothing quarters, no doubtedly back to more perilous work. The servants, pretending they hadn’t seen the King’s moment of weakness, got to work dressing him. And there he stood, in the present, staring dejectedly at the crown just placed upon his head. The servants exited, satisfied with their preparation, and left Alfred to a few precious moments of solitude before the wedding. He spent the brief time simply staring at himself, imagining his parents’ hands on his shoulders. His father would undoubtedly be telling him how proud he was of his son, cracking jokes to try to get Alfred to smile or laugh away the nervousness. His mother would lightly chide his father to not tease Alfred about such things while she would rub Alfred’s shoulder comfortingly, making offhand remarks about how Alfred’s cowlick would still not lie flat. Alfred would be relaxed - he would know his bride to be, perhaps be friends with her. His parents would adore her. She would understand him, and his romantic preferences. She wouldn’t pressure him into anything, and they would get through it together, be there to support each other. Alfred smiled wistfully at imagining this before he heard a servant calling for him.

     “-majesty? Your majesty, are you alright?”

     Alfred felt the reality of the situation come crashing back, almost knocking him off of his feet. He had never even seen his bride to be before this, never spoken to her. And his parents couldn’t comfort him from their tomb.

     “Yes,” Alfred lied easily through his teeth. “Absolutely swell.”

     The servant, catching sarcasm, shifted nervously. “The wedding is starting. You are needed at the altar.”

     Alfred tore his gaze from the mirror and followed the servant out, hearing each echo of his footsteps in the stone corridor boom in his ear, drowning out all other sound. They turned the corner into the garden, where Alfred had been bestowed his crown the previous day and where the wedding would take place. Spades officials and the family of Alice Kirkland all rose to their feet at his entrance, before giving their bows. Alfred looked at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He had never liked it when people had bowed to him. He forced himself to look up, take one step after the other to the flower-clad alter. The garden was in full bloom - brightly colored flowers dotted the bushes and trees. Orange and white roses ravished the altar, complimenting the white silk cloth that draped over the wooden platform nicely. Beside them, the quiet murmur of water sang throughout the courtyard, filled with lilies floating absentmindedly through the crystal clear turquoise water. Alfred felt his edge ease a degree, as the garden was his favorite area of the castle. It is where he and his family spent much of their time, where he would go with Yao as children to spy on officials. He could almost still hear the giggles of youth, almost still see the fleeting glimpse of blonde and black as they darted from bush to bush. But instead his gaze was filled by the audience rising again as Alice Kirkland turned down the aisle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translations this chapter.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> He pressed his lips to hers hollowly. Alfred vaguely realized this was a supposedly special moment - his first kiss outside of family. But all he could feel was shame as he pulled away from his new wife, numbness making his limbs heavy as he averted his gaze.
> 
> Constructive criticism on how to improve is highly appreciated!


	2. Wedding Day

**Chapter 2**

She was clad in a white billowing gown. Strands of snowy silk were pinned to the back of an obvious corset as the bottom of the dress poofed below her waist. Her skin was a similar pale shade, and her long light blonde hair put up and adorned with a silver Spades clasp. Delicate makeup framed her light green eyes and painted slightly trembling lips. Alfred felt his heart fall. She was certainly beautiful in his eyes, with snowy skin and light hair, but so… feminine. The corset accentuated her slightly curved body and made her seem fragile. Alfred didn’t particularly care for fragile things - he much prefered something sturdy and reliable.

When she reached the end of the aisle, he took a moment to lock eyes with her and study her emotion as the pastor recited the traditional words. She looked back at him, trying to appear undaunting and fearless with a jut chin and sharp look, but betrayed by the slight tremor in her body. Alfred smiled internally. He appreciated bravery, even if faked. His attention was snapped back to the altar as the ceremony progressed to the exchanging of rings and signing of paper. They both did so coldly and devoid of emotion, which Alfred was slightly relieved for. But it was fleeting and replaced by awkwardness again as the pastor called for the first kiss. He pressed his lips to hers hollowly. Alfred vaguely realized this was a supposedly special moment - his first kiss outside of family. But all he could feel was shame as he pulled away from his new wife, numbness making his limbs heavy as he averted his gaze. Clapping filled the quiet courtyard, formal and stiff. The sun had dipped below the horizon at this point, and instead of the traditional celebration afterwards, the court had believed it best to simply move on. Alfred offered his arm to Alice politely, and she accepted, even if still giving him a hard look. He couldn’t help but smirk a little - the poor girl was trying to intimidate him! As if he needed a motivator to keep his hands off of her painfully womanly form.

As they reached the bedding chamber, however, it seemed as if the court had different plans for their evening together. Opening the door, a bowl of oil was placed beside the new and larger bed, intended to be lubricant. Candles illuminated the room and a faint perfume was laced throughout the air. Alfred swallowed hard as he coughed to stifle an awkward laugh, glancing away. In hindsight, he should have prepared himself more. He drew a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

“There-”

“I don’t-”

They both looked at each other awkwardly. Alfred cleared his throat and began again.

“I… am afraid this night will probably not go the way you intend it to.”

Alice’s face flushed angrily and embarrassed.

“If you think you can lay a hand on me just because you’re a king, you’re poorly mistaken!” She yelled shrilly. Alfred’s eyes widened and he took a stumble backwards as she advanced on him angrily.

“I will not be some… some street whore you can use at will! I am a person! An individual! And if you think you can - can force your will on me, you-!”

“I’m not attracted to women!”

Alice stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Alfred blankly. Alfred slowly lowered his arms he had shielded his face with and put them up in a calming manner.

“I… I am afraid I’ve only felt attraction to men before. I was simply saying I would… not like to have… uh, intimate relations with you tonight.”

Alice stared a moment more before relief spread across her face. She laughed shakily and fell back onto the bed, exhaling slowly. Alfred began to laugh a little as well, before sinking onto the bed next to her. He frowned slightly.

“But we can’t keep this up forever. The council will expect a child within the next year.”

Alice’s face fell and she glanced at Alfred. “But perhaps it will be… better if we at least know each other first?”

Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess. But I, uh, don’t want to be married to someone who, like, hates me. So… maybe we can at least be, I dunno. Friends?”

Alice studied him before yielding a small smile. “Perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this isn't a USUK fanfiction in disguise. It's RusAme through and through. Be patient with me, friends.  
> On a happier note, I've finally designated an weekly update day - Friday! Hooray!
> 
> No translations.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> The man gazed at Alfred before offering a gloved hand. Alfred shook it firmly. A formality, and nothing more. He noted how the man gripped his hand equally in return, unafraid of the silent challenge. They lingered like that, hand in hand, for a fraction of a moment longer than customary for introductions. The man cleared his throat before speaking in a deep and heavily accented voice.  
> "I am Ivan Braginski, the King of Clubs."


	3. The King of Clubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: Bear with me on this one! It contains a lot of background story to the plot itself. I promise it'll become more interesting after this chapter!! Take my word for it please.

**Chapter 3**

 

_A month later_

The sound of heels clicking echoed around the sparkling palace.

Alfred and Alice strode briskly through the marble room, and Alfred’s curiosity was piqued. He had never seen the other royals before, as princes and princesses weren’t allowed to attend meetings with the kings and queens of their kingdoms. He had been called for a month-long visit for business. It was Alfred’s first time outside of his country, let alone in a different kingdom’s castle. Diamonds was a stunning place - Alfred had never experienced the tropics before.

Each kingdom had a specialized area of export.

Spades was in farming, so it was located in rolling hills and flatlands. They produced basic food products like wheat, eggs, meat, leather, potatoes, etc. However, while Spades was rich in culture and crops, everyone produced the same items, and its population was much over the stability limit. As a result, Spades was undergoing massive poverty.

Hearts is located in a flat and forested area, and specialize mostly in lumber but also produce alcohol, furs, and tools. On a normal basis, Hearts thrived - the right amount of population, product diversity, and generally good leaders produced a successful kingdom. However, currently Hearts was experiencing a horrible plague which they were scrambling for a cure for. Demands for medicines and bandage cloths ran high, which the other kingdoms were happy to fulfil.

Clubs specialized in mining. Nestled high in the mountains, their exports consisted of gold, precious gemstones, essential metals, jewelry, and weaponry. What they lacked in culture they made up for in rulership. Alfred had heard rumors of their kingdom from eavesdropping on his father. Ruled with an iron fist and reliant on discipline, Clubs was known for being harsh and strict with their people. As a result, it produced fantastic work rates and military, but little diversity and culture. Alfred shuddered slightly as he thought of this, hairs rising on end when he thought of having to meet its ruler.

Diamonds was luxuries - fruits, rice, silks, spices, sugar, cocoa, and other highly desired items. As a result, they were the richest kingdom of the four. However, the leadership of Diamonds was deeply corrupted and marriages never meant anything in their court. Manipulation was achieved in any means possible - flattery, sexual, and murder have all been rumored cases of how leaders rose and fell from power. Diamonds was also prone to flaunting their wealth. And it clearly showed in the palace Alfred and his wife navigated through.

Polished white surfaces shone so clearly that Alfred could see his reflection when he looked downwards. Stained glass illuminated the room in wondrous colors, nestled in massive arching windows, giving way to a view of the shimmering ocean and clear blue sky. Alfred was so entranced with the palace that he lost focus and strode smack into a large marble doorway. Face burning with embarrassment, he straitened his crown and stepped back. Alice glared at him, but looked like she was trying not to laugh. Alfred gave a goofy grin. Despite his tall crown and proud uniform, he was still just his dorky self - Alfred.

The doors were opened by two guards on the other side, and Alfred quickly dropped the smile and remembered the training he was given by Yao. Masked face, tall stance, and absolutely no smiling or friendliness. This was almost broken immediately, however, when he laid eyes on the tallest man in the room.

The man appeared to be a little older than Alfred, probably around 25, 4 years Alfred’s senior. He was as pale as the marble beneath Alfred’s feet, his eyes almost blending in with his milky complexion. Light purple - _purple!_ \- irises fell on Alfred’s form when he stepped into the room. The man had clean cut and well defined features, featuring a sharp jaw and a large nose. Pale shaggy hair fell long around the sides of his face and clung to the nape of his neck. And - Alfred swallowed drily - he was built like a tank. Towering over the others and sporting a large frame, he simply screamed masculine. But Alfred noted there was some softness as well, like his rounded eyes and how his cheeks seemed to hold a little pudge. Alfred blinked a few times before he felt a pinch from Alice that brought him back to his senses. He shook his head and stepped forward, extending his palm for a handshake.

“I am Alfred F. Jones,” he said. “Newly crowned King of Spades.”

The man gazed at Alfred before offering a gloved hand. Alfred shook it firmly. A formality, and nothing more. He noted how the man gripped his hand equally in return, unafraid of the silent challenge. They lingered like that, hand in hand, for a fraction of a moment longer than customary for introductions. The man cleared his throat before speaking in a deep and heavily accented voice.

“I am Ivan Braginsky, the King of Clubs.”

Alfred flinched when he heard those words. All fantasies involving this man flew right of of his head when he heard those four final words. _Wait, fantasies?_ Alfred shook his head slightly, feeling his cheeks go red. He was married, and had spoken only briefly with this man. And he also happened to be the King of Clubs. Alfred sighed internally. He seemed to be just his type, too.

Alfred finished introductions with the other Queens and Kings - the Queen of Clubs seemed to be quite the strapping young woman, Alfred noted. He felt a twinge of jealousy that she stood by Ivan’s side, married, before he quickly and angrily dismissed it as ridiculous. He couldn’t feel jealousy for an impossible dream.

The other royalties were polite enough - the Hearts were polite and firm, and Alfred seemed to click with the Queen. The very short woman seemed to be quiet and reserved but with a killer intellect and wit. Alfred smiled to himself. Maybe they could have been friends, in another life.

The Diamonds were as expected. Their king, Francis, was extremely flirtatious in greeting, especially to Alice. Alfred realized he probably should have felt anger or protectiveness, but he could only try to hold in his laughter as the man flirted helplessly with Alfred’s brown-noser wife. He felt his hair stand on end, however, when addressing the Queen. While she held a sickly-sweet smile in greeting, young face showing innocence, Alfred felt his gut feeling that she was not to be reckoned with. There was something in her eyes that seemed… cunning. Alfred shivered at the goosebumps that ran along his arm at her touch.

Other kingdoms’ royalties had already had a head start on international affairs. They all had alive and well mothers and fathers to guide them, and had been crowned earlier - Alfred was the youngest King in the room. The only queens younger than him, actually, were his own and Diamonds’. But the rule of coronating queens was much different - they could be married in any age above the age of consent, which was 16. Alfred grimaced as he realized this, but silently chanted to himself to stand true to Yao’s training.

The first meeting of the month began. It was tradition to begin with small matters so the Kings and Queens could become more comfortable with each other (if that was even possible) before delving into deeper discussion. The Diamonds royalty, since they were hosting this year’s annual event, would begin. Francis spoke loudly yet… somehow seductively about smaller issues in his Kingdom. It sounded like a cat’s purr. Alfred frowned internally, dislike for the snobbish man mounting. There was a large spread dislike between the two kingdoms of Spades and Diamonds. Spades found it revolting that people with such wealth and luxury could stand around parading their success as others starved. In return, Diamonds found Spades to be a disgusting lot of filth and poverty, with sickness around every turn. While there were no clear alliances or enemies at this time, there was a general gist of the kingdom's relations.

The Club kingdom catered more to the Diamond kingdom, as they sold gold, precious gemstones, jewelry, and other luxuries. While they still sold weaponry to the others, their relations with the Diamond kingdom were noticeably better, as Diamonds poured massive amounts of money into Clubs in exchange for such treasures. Alfred wrinkled his nose at this thought. One more reason Clubs was so alienated.

Francis continued on about boring topics such as decrease in rice production and less people immigrating to their kingdom. Alfred quickly began to zone out. It was dreadfully dull, hearing a man blather on and on about silkworms when Alfred’s people were starving on the streets.

“Divorce rates are also higher,” Francis continued in his oh so sensual voice. “My kingdom’s amount cheating in marriage is skyrocketing.”

“Hmm. Pray tell why that might be,” Alfred heard Ivan mutter under his breath. Only Alfred heard it, and he burst out with a bark of laughter before quickly clapping a hand over his mouth in alarm. The other royalty looked at him quizzically and he felt Alice kick him from under the table. Alfred tried to play it off as coughing, but the moment was gone. The others simply shrugged it off as immaturity and continued. Alfred cast a wayward glance at Ivan, who was giving him a small smile filled with mirth before retraining his attention back to Francis. Alfred felt his heart pound at that. His lips turned upward looked so soft and… inviting.

The rest of the meeting was hard to focus on with such an intriguing man sitting right next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to read the notice at the top :)  
> Thank you to those who have left comments so far! Each comment and kudos is greatly appreciated and keeps me motivated to write.
> 
> No translations for this chapter.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> “I did not mean to startle you, but to get your attention.”  
> Alfred grasped the hand firmly and felt himself be pulled up as if he weighed nothing. Once back on two feet, he turned to face Ivan.  
> “Ah, dude, it’s fine-” he began, before remembering who he was speaking with. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, before continuing.  
> “Uh - not dude, sorry, your - your highness, yeah. You have caused no offence, your highness.”


	4. Opening Moves

**Chapter 4**

 

As the first meeting drew to a close, the others stood and exited the room without another word to each other. Alfred looked at Alice sheepishly - she was livid.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” she said angrily. Alfred opened his mouth to apologize before she continued, cutting him off.

“That pig thinks he can flirt with  _ me _ ! The Queen of Spades! Ridiculous!”

Alfred realized with relief that she was angry with Francis’s behavior, and not his screw-up at the meeting. He stood and began walking out.

“I think I’ll go chill in the courtyard here,” he called over his shoulder. “Try not to get knocked up by a Diamond while I’m gone.”

He heard her scoff angrily at that, but before she could blow her top, he closed the door and sped quickly off to the gardens, giggling to himself. Over this past month, Alice had begun to feel more like a sister than a wife. He could confide in her when he was feeling anxious and joke with her about things. But they still hadn’t slept together. He could tell both she and he had no desire whatsoever to, which he was relieved about, but it would need to happen eventually for her to bear a child to follow him. He flinched suddenly as he felt a hand tap his shoulder lightly. Startled, he spun around so quickly he tipped back his chair he had sat in and flew to the ground.

“Oh, goodness. I apologize.”

He felt a jolt of electricity when he realized the deep and accented voice belonged to. Glancing up sheepishly, his eyes locked with those of none other than Ivan Braginsky. He bit back the urge to simply stare into those strange yet beautiful eyes, and willed words to come. He opened his mouth, and when nothing came out, he closed it again, cheeks burning. Ivan offered a gloved hand downward to help him up.

“I did not mean to startle you, but to get your attention.”

Alfred grasped the hand firmly and felt himself be pulled up as if he weighed nothing. Once back on two feet, he turned to face Ivan.

“Ah, dude, it’s fine-” he began, before remembering who he was speaking with. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, before continuing. 

“Uh - not dude, sorry, your - your highness, yeah. You have caused no offense, your highness.”

Ivan gave a small chuckle, his lips turning upward into a smile. He pulled back the chair for Alfred to sit in. Alfred tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the gesture, and took his seat before scooting it back up to the table he was sat at. He realized it was a chess table. Ivan took a seat on the other side of him.

“I was only wondering if you played?”

Alfred bit back a smug grin. Not only did he play, but nobody in the Spades palace could surmount to him. Except his father. His father will beat him every time, without fail.

Alfred felt his face drop a shade. His father  _ used to  _ beat him.

He shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts and dragging himself back to the moment.

“I do. Frequently.”

“Would you care for a match?”

Alfred once again resisted the urge to smile. This would certainly be a way to make a first impression. Before overthinking what was considered “proper” amongst royalty or what he should be doing at that time, he responded.

“Not at all,” he said excitedly and perhaps a tad too rushed. Ivan’s smile grew wider.

“Would you prefer the upper hand?”

Alfred gazed at the strange and compelling man, seizing up the challenge he set before him. But now that he had said it, Alfred couldn’t refuse a competition.

“No thank you,” he said. “I’ll take the black pieces.”

Something flashed across Ivan’s pale purple eyes. Was it amusement? Alfred dismissed it quickly. The icy King of Clubs couldn’t possibly show human emotion when he and his family were rumored monsters. Yet the more Alfred spoke to this man, the more he questioned the countless gossips of him that flew across the Spades palace.

Ivan placed a milky hand upon a marble pawn, his skin tone deftly matching the piece. Two spaces forward. Alfred mirrored the move. Ivan drew his knight out from behind his row of pawns. Alfred maneuvered his queen into the middle of the board. Ivan smirked and raised an eyebrow. Alfred met his gaze, unafraid. He’d always been bold about everything, and that wasn’t going to end at chess. Some may call him cocky, but Alfred simply labeled it as bravery. He had no time for others’ judgements of him.

As the game progressed, Alfred lost himself to the art of strategy and psychological warfare. Plans raced and flew throughout his head, always looking for ways to reposition himself, to push Ivan back. So lost, that when Ivan placed his rook to parallel the king, Alfred continued playing. 

“Ah, your majesty,” Ivan said. Alfred glanced up, confused. “That is checkmate.”

Alfred felt his eyebrows raise in surprise as he retraced Ivan’s steps, to - sure enough - a stealthy checkmate. Alfred stared a few seconds longer, comprehending this. He was in complete shock.

Ivan extended a hand for a handshake, custom courtesy for the ending of a match. Alfred returned the handshake, still dazed.

“Well, Bragins- your majesty,”  he murmured. “You are quite the chess player.”

“As are you,” Ivan said softly. “I’ve never played someone who has thought so… similarly as I do.”

Alfred felt a smile creep to his lips. He couldn’t be bitter about his loss. This was, by far, one of the best chess games he’d played in his entire life. He studied Ivan a moment longer, taking in the intriguing man. 

“Nor have I. We should play again sometime.” Alfred felt his smile drop and a flush come to his cheeks as he remembered Ivan was other royalty. “T-that is, if you’d like to. A mere suggestion, I assure y-”

“Another match would be lovely,” Ivan said, laughter in his voice. “I eagerly anticipate it.”

Alfred shifted from one leg to the other, slightly embarrassed. He felt his heart pound in his chest like some young boy with a crush. He was the King of Spades, not some common adolescent. Yet he couldn’t stop the delicious flood of hormones throughout his body, making his knees quiver and pigmenting his cheeks.

“You are turning out to be quite an interest,” Ivan said suddenly. “I shall be keeping an eye on you, Alfred.”

With that, Ivan turned and walked back out of the gardens. Alfred stood there for a few minutes, processing those words and what meanings they possibly could hold, before dazedly clambering back to meet Alice. Only after he had reunited with her and she had fallen asleep next to him late at night did he realize.

_ He called me Alfred. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, for those of you who don't know, catch me @aphchiptease on Tumblr. 
> 
> No translations for this chapter.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> The starlight illuminated his figure, sculpting his rounded cheeks and bouncing off of pale lips. Alfred couldn't help but reach out and card a hand through platinum hair. Ivan looked over and smiled, closing his eyes sleepily as Alfred combed through his scalp.


	5. Tipsy

**Chapter 5**

“Greetings, Alfred.”

Alfred already felt the smile on his lips as he turned to face Ivan. He relished the way the r’s rolled off of the man’s tongue, how his a’s were slightly warped. Alfred mused he would pay to simply hear the man speak for hours on end. He had gotten lucky yesterday - an entire chess match, for free!

“Heya, your maj… Ivan.”

Ivan’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened slightly, as if he was shocked with Alfred’s acceptance of his silent request. Alfred decided he couldn’t care less. The more he spoke with this man, the more he seriously questioned all of the horrible things spoken about him and his family. How could a man with slight pudge in his rosy cheeks do such unspeakable things?

“I was planning on taking a horse to explore the Diamonds beaches,” Ivan continued. “The weather is lovely today, so I figured I would enjoy a picnic.”

“Well, if there’s a place for ‘picnic weather’, it’s here, huh?” Alfred murmured, already becoming distracted with the way Ivan’s platinum hair swept over a slightly furrowed forehead. It looked so _soft_.

“Would you care to join me?”

That certainly got Alfred’s attention. He felt a sly grin pull at his lips. “Is this proper behavior amongst royals?”

Ivan’s eyes clouded with worry and his brows furrowed before catching sight of Alfred’s smirk. His eyes slowly cleared, piercing into Alfred’s figure as his own lips began turning upwards mischievously. “Not normally, no. But I do not see the palace guards turning us away.”

“How could they, with a face like this?” Alfred gave a flashing smile, and Ivan laughed a little at that, and _oh_ \- it was the most wonderful sound Alfred had ever heard. _I have to hear that again_ , he thought feverishly to himself. The way it sounded low and gravelly, but warm, inviting. Alfred felt his stomach knot as the heat began rushing to his cheeks. Damn it, could he not get 2 minutes into a conversation with Braginsky without becoming flustered like some school child?

“I am packed, we may leave whenever you please.” Ivan seemed not to pay heed to Alfred’s blazing face.

“Now’s fine,” Alfred said hurriedly. He knew in the back of his mind Alice would never approve of this and would be furious when she found out, but in the moment, he couldn’t find himself to care. “I’ll need to pick out a horse.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alfred was completely and utterly content.

He closed his eyes and listened drowsily as his own cream colored stallion nickered softly in the background and waves swept out on the smooth beach. Gulls screeched somewhere far off, their screams strangely adding tranquility to the scene sprawled out before the king. He opened his eyes to soak in the majesty of color.

The sun was finishing setting on the horizon of the ocean, making the green glass of the sea sparkle and shimmer as the sky lit up in soft oranges and pinks. The sun, which was previously a blazing orb overhead, was now a muted buttery ball that slipped below the horizon, partially engulfed in light purple clouds, a very similar color to Ivan’s eyes. The water was smooth and glossed over the sand before his feet before receding back into the ocean, almost as if it was teasing, seeing how close it could get without wetting his bare toes. Alfred smiled and glanced to his right, drinking in the view before him.

Ivan, beautiful and mysterious and glorious Ivan, was sprawled in a similar manner, eyes closed and mouth turned in the most heartwarming smile Alfred had ever seen. Snowy locks were spread across the sandy shore, pale skin shimmering almost as marble, like some rustic statue. His cheeks were a fierce red from the liquor and shined with a sheen of sweat from their previous activities. Alfred marveled at how many hours earlier they had hiked leisurely on their horses to the private beaches of Diamonds, immersed in deep conversation about their passions and family life. When they arrived, they raced their horses up and down the beaches of Diamonds, accusing the other of cheating laughingly as they played like children.

Then they had parked their horses to a post nearby and hunted for shells - Ivan had found a gorgeous salmon colored Conch which now perfectly matched the pallet of the sky. He had jokingly sunk down to a knee, lowered his head, and held it before Alfred. Alfred had given an exaggerated bow and accepted it, not willing to admit how the jesting action had made his heart pound, especially when Ivan had taken Alfred’s hand in his own and pressed his lips to his knuckles. Alfred swore he could have passed out, completely overwhelmed from how soft and gentle his lips were against his taut golden skin.

Once they had scoured the shore twice over, they arranged the picnic as best as they could. Smoothing a sheet over the gritty and irritating sand, they laid before them delicious pastries and honeyed sweets prepared by Diamonds’ finest chefs, and a bottle of sweet rice wine. Both had attempted with glasses but eventually gave up on formality, passing the lukewarm alcohol bottle back and forth as they took swigs and dined on the various cookies and cakes and creamed puffs, discussing things like the moon and horses and anything except kingdom duties. And here they were, basking in the gentle afternoon sun, both more than a little drunk from finishing the entire bottle of rice wine in a few hours.

Ivan’s milky orchid eyes cracked open and gazed back at Alfred, unabashed. Alfred glanced up and noticed that while he reflected on their wonderful day together, the sun had completely set, and the stars had come out.

Alfred knew both he and Ivan had a passion for astronomy. He marveled at how at ease he felt with Ivan, knowing he was another king from another kingdom, with just as many responsibilities and burdens as Alfred. Perhaps, Alfred mused, this is why it was so reassuring. To know that both of them were in the same boat, but willing to put their duties aside to enjoy their time together.

Smiling, he glanced back to Ivan, only to find that the King of Clubs was still staring at him, a tenderness alight in his eyes Alfred had never seen before. Ivan tilted his head slightly when he found Alfred looking, averting his eyes. Alfred frowned slightly as he fought through the grogginess of a full stomach and drunkenness. He wanted Ivan to pay attention to him. The starlight illuminated his figure, sculpting his rounded cheeks and bouncing off of pale lips. Alfred couldn't help but reach out and card a hand through platinum hair. Ivan looked over and smiled, closing his eyes sleepily as Alfred combed through his scalp. He gently pressed his head against Alfred’s soft touches, humming softly as Alfred mapped out his skull with tender strokes. Then, to Alfred’s surprise, Ivan lifted his chin even more, sliding his lips to Alfred’s palm. Alfred gave a small breath of laughter. He knew the wine was altering their restraint and judgement, but he didn’t quite believe it was such a bad thing as Ivan pressed a gentle kiss to his fingertips. Alfred felt himself stretching closer to Ivan, swiped along his bottom lip in anticipation, growing closer to caving into his desire to connect their mouths-

“ _Alfred_!”

Alfred could have screamed in frustration. He’d know that shriek anywhere.

The kings had just enough time to break away from a rather… questionable position before Alice Kirkland came bounding over the sand dune furiously, Francis trailing directly behind her. When Francis caught sight of the two kings and their disheveled states, however, amusement splayed across his features. Alice, however, did not see the comedy in the situation as much.

“What on _Earth_ -” she angrily yanked Alfred to his feet before pulling him into a fierce hug. “-were you?!”

Alfred stayed on shaky feet for a few moments longer before clumsily returning the embrace. As Francis tried to help Ivan up, Ivan swayed and toppled over, bringing them both down on the sand. Alice broke away, studied Alfred’s face for a moment, and pushed him away angrily. This time Alfred _did_ fall, and glanced over at Ivan, who was also on the ground. The two burst out laughing as Alice turned almost as red in the face as the two drunks were before her.

“You two are drunk!” She yelled, voice raised in fury. “Two bloody kings, drunk on the job!”

“Granted, _mon amour_ , it is quite the place to become intoxic-” Francis quickly cut himself off as Alice shot him a look retelling the message that if he didn’t shut up, he’d be unconscious quicker than the now two hiccuping kings were.

“Hell - can you two even stand?” She spat. Alfred held up a finger, as if building suspense for some great trick, which caused Ivan to double over in hysterics. Alfred shakily got to his feet, straightened his back, and promptly passed out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to start replying to comments, as I appreciate them all so much.  
> Don't worry, kids, the angst tag will not be in vain like it was in Pen and Heart, because I've actually fully planned this story out (yay!).
> 
> Translations:  
> Mon amour - My love
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> Alfred didn't know what he could do. All he knew was that he needed to stop the shaking, now. He couldn't stand to see the other in such a state of distress.


	6. Storm

**Chapter 6**

 

Thunder clapped outside the palace, and rain hammered hard into the walls, making them groan in protest as the wind howled carnally. 

Alfred strode the halls restlessly. It had been three days now since he had been caught drunk by Alice, and three days since he had last seen… him.

Braginsky.

Alfred growled lowly, annoyed with the inevitable color that rose to his cheeks by just thinking about the other man. With his damn platinum hair, and soft pale skin, and those cute crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, and his rugged frame…

Ah, yes… that bastard.

He sighed angrily, heels clacking as he strode down the hallway into a part of the castle he hadn’t explored yet. Was Ivan avoiding him on purpose? Their next meeting wasn’t for another few days, and it was highly unlikely the other man simply happened to be in the wrong places at the wrong times for three days straight now. Especially after that evening together.

His blush deepened. Damn it.

He jumped slightly at another roar of thunder, sounding like wood being ripped to splinters. From another room, he heard a muffled scream of terror.

Alarmed, he sprinted to the doorway, rattling the handle. Locked. He banged on it a few times, nervousness swelling.

“Hello?” He shouted, about ready to pound the door down. “Are you alright? I’ll break the door down if you need me to, just tell me! Are you hurt?”

He was greeted with silence, which only heightened his anxiousness. Fearing the person had passed out or worse, he backed up and slammed himself on the door, hearing the frame shift before falling completely. He was greeted with a yelp from the person on the other side. Annoyed that they didn’t respond earlier and save him the massive amount of bruising on his body’s right side, he turned in their direction angrily before faltering, lowering his accusatory finger.

It was… Ivan.

The proud and regal King of Clubs was shrunken against the corner of the small storage room, bundled up and swathed with multiple thick blankets and pillows. His bulky frame was hidden from sight as he sunk lower into the huge mass of soft fabrics, face whiter than a ghost.

“I-Ivan?!”

“Please leave,” he mumbled sullenly, averting his eyes. “I do not desire you here.”

Alfred felt his anger come swelling right back up at those malicious words, before noticing that Ivan was trembling violently. Alfred didn't know what he could do. All he knew was that he needed to stop the shaking, now. He couldn't stand to see the other in such a state of distress. Despite what he had said to him.

“Ivan, what’s the matter?” Alfred murmured gently, slowly moving closer to Ivan.

“Leave,” the other man said again, voice cracking this time and gaze dropping to his knees. “Now, Jones. Before I make y-”

Thunder ripped outside again and lightning flashed, and Ivan let out a bloodcurdling scream of pure terror as violent tremors seized his body. His breathing sped up rapidly and his eyes squeezed shut as his hands flew to shield his face from some terror unseen to Alfred. Without a second thought, Alfred quickly closed the distance between the two and wrapped Ivan in a protective embrace. He sunk to the floor to meet Ivan’s height and gathered the larger and hyperventilating man in his arms and pressed his lips softly to his ear, giving deep and steady breaths in and out, in and out. Alfred adjusted the blankets and pillows so that both he and Ivan were snug under them before sprawling his legs alongside Ivan and tightened his arms, which were wrapped around Ivan’s middle. Ivan pushed his head so that his nose was buried in the crook of Alfred’s neck and listened to his soothing words, willing his breath to slow and tremors to stop. After a few minutes, he was in the state where he could speak again. Yet no words came. Alfred decided to give it a try, rubbing small circles into Ivan’s shoulder blade as he spoke.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Ivan didn’t respond for a few moments, simply breathing hotly onto Alfred’s now damp shirt. Just as Alfred began to worry he wasn’t going to respond, Ivan replied.

“You are saying… you do not hate me?” He whispered tentatively. Alfred almost laughed aloud at that.

“Why on Earth would I hate you, doll?”

The pet name rolled off his tongue without either noticing.

“I encouraged us to get very drunk yesterday. I… indulged in some very questionable behavior with a married man such as yourself.”

Alfred smiled against Ivan’s ear.  _ Score _ .

“It’s cool. Alice is more like my sister than anything else.”

He could feel Ivan give a shaky breath of… relief?

“It is the same with me and my wife. It was an arranged marriage. A common piece of knowledge is that she is deeply in love with our Jack.”

Alfred laughed a little, bitterness laced in his tone. “Doomed to the married bachelor life, hmm?”

He felt Ivan smile against his chest and his lips move as he spoke. “That is a contradiction, Alik.”

“Alik?” Alfred felt his heart pick up. “That’s rather ‘questionable behavior’ for a married man.”

Ivan giggled gently. “Perhaps it is.”

Thunder boomed again outside, and Ivan flinched, burying himself into Alfred’s neck further until his lips were directly on the column of flesh, clenched tightly from fear. He whimpered pathetically. Alfred felt his heart melt - he couldn’t stand it. Unthinkingly, he placed small kisses to Ivan’s hair, stroking his back and whispering sweet nothings to his new friend.

_ Friend _ , me mused to himself.  _ Has quite the ring to it. _

And that is how they stayed for hours - speaking of Ivan’s interests and hobbies, likes and dislikes, favorites and detestables. By the end of the storm, Ivan’s shaking was reduced to minimal, and his breath only slightly short.

And as they parted ways out of that dark storage room, Alfred felt a warm new thump in his heart - and he knew that heat wasn’t from the blanket they had shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Angst will pick up soon - promise! Hang in there!]
> 
> No translations for this chapter.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> Alfred strolled into the room only to find Alice with her head between her hands.  
> "Alice?!"


	7. News

  
  


**_Chapter 7_ **

 

Alfred grinned happily and hummed some nameless tune as he strolled down the glistening hallways of the Diamonds palace. He had just gotten back from a wonderful afternoon spent with Ivan in the city, where they had disguised themselves as peasants as so not to be recognized and explored the wonders of Diamonds. For the first time in his life, Alfred experienced something known as a “crepe” - a mouthwatering sweet and thin blanket of crispy dough with fresh fruits and chocolate heaped onto it before being wrapped delicately up for Alfred’s pleasure. Ivan had been more prone to a lemon sugar one, and when he was finished ravishing the morsel, he had powdered sugar dancing over his nose. Alfred had some laughs as he tried to wipe it off with difficulty, seeing as the pale powder blended well with Ivan’s marble skin.

Wonderful music had drifted through the warm summer afternoon as Alfred tried to let go of his kingly duties, which had been burdening him particularly hard ever since that stormy night spent befriending Ivan. For the past week, they hadn’t been able to see each other outside of meetings discussing the rising problems in their kingdoms, so they tried their best to make up for it in the bustling town. They had eventually found themselves nestled against a statue on a grassy slope of a town plaza, drowsily listening to the lovely sound of harps and violins weaving through the commotion of trade and chatter. Alfred had eventually unthinkingly tipped his head against Ivan’s broad chest, full stomach shooting warm contentment through his veins like some sort of drug. He half-consciously felt as Ivan lifted a large hand and gently carded his fingers through his hair, and used the other to rub circles into his sides. Alfred knew somewhere in his mind that this kind of behavior was not fit for kings, but for the time being, the man next to him wasn’t the notorious King of Clubs - simply Ivan Braginsky. And Alfred was finding that he liked Ivan Braginsky a whole lot.

His new friend had eventually drifted off, indicated by his head slumping slightly to rest atop Alfred’s soft locks and a gentle snore emitting from his chest. Alfred knew not to wake him, so instead chose to wedge himself further back against the warm giant of a man, indulging in his unconscious embrace. He only roused Ivan when the sun had dipped below the hills and the marketplace had grown slightly quieter, disbanded somewhat from the guards now on patrol. From there the duo had snuck stealthily back into the castle before parting ways, but not before Ivan gave a soft kiss to Alfred’s forehead and strode briskly off with a simple ‘goodbye for now, friend’. It left Alfred to question just how innocent the action was - perhaps it was simply a good hearted gesture of friendship. Or perhaps… just maybe…

He was pulled from his thoughts when he entered the chambers designated for him and Alice quietly, as to not wake his surely slumbering wife. Yet when he entered the room, he found she was not asleep - quite the opposite. 

Alfred strolled into the room only to find Alice with her head between her hands.

"Alice?!"

Her face was gaunt and distraught when she looked back at Alfred, her eyes reflecting something strongly resembling… guilt? He walked over to her and placed his hand on hers comfortingly, knowing something was wrong. She quickly yanked it back and placed it in her lap, gaze shifting down to it intently. Several moments passed before she spoke, her voice quiet and shaky, and very hoarse from crying.

“I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ackk, sorry about the late update today!! Been over my head in work. Short chapter, but I hope it will do for now.
> 
> No translations this chapter.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> "You're what?!"  
> Alice glanced up emptily as Alfred burst into hysterical laughter, maniacal cackles echoing throughout the corridor before he sank to the floor with his head in his hands. Alice simply looked at him with a hollow expression before her gaze returned to her lap.


	8. Confrontation

**_Chapter 8_ **

 

Alfred stood trembling for a few moments, as if he had been slapped.

"You're what?!"

Alice glanced up emptily as Alfred burst into hysterical laughter, maniacal cackles echoing throughout the corridor before he sank to the floor with his head in his hands. Alice simply looked at him with a hollow expression before her gaze returned to her lap. She continued on amidst Alfred’s guffaws.

“I have been for two weeks. That means the child should arrive in 38 weeks. We have until then to prepare.”

Alfred giggled uncontrollably, the room spinning. Before he could get anything out, she continued.

“The father is Francis Bonnefoy.”

This just made Alfred laugh even harder until he was wheezing and curled into a ball on the floor. He attempted to speak in gasps, completely breathless.

“D-didn’t I tell you on the first day not to get k-knocked up by a diamond?!”

“Shut the fuck up, Alfred!” She suddenly shouted, standing abruptly and slamming her hand on the wall. “This is serious! This child is not a joke!”

With those words, Alfred hackled to a stop, eyes bulging. The reality of the situation came crashing down on him, and if he hadn’t been sitting, he probably would have been sent plummeting towards the floor. Alice was pregnant. With the child of the King of Diamonds.

“Oh, God… oh, my God...”

There was a silence as Alice puffed out labored breaths and Alfred simply sat there before he rolled over, curled into fetal position. 

_ What are we going to do? _

“Francis doesn’t know yet,” Alice almost whispered, the pain making her voice so brittle Alfred swore it could have shattered right before his eyes, tumbling and cracking on the cold floor. “I am going to tell him tonight.”

“When should we make the announcement?” Alfred’s voice was hollow. He would have to raise a child built completely on lies - lies of their true father, of his kingdom. That they were intended to happen. That their father wasn’t a gay man.

Oh, god. Alfred began to shake. How would he tell Ivan?

“We should make it as soon as possible. We obviously claim the child is yours, and this will hopefully solve our dilemma of the next heir to the throne.”

Halfway through her sentence, her voice broke with a dry sob. Alfred heard the teardrops splatter on the marble. He forced himself to rise, forced himself to not shake, as he took his wife in his arms and held her close to his chest. She let out a wail, and he felt the front of his uniform grow damp with salty agony as she cried for all that could never be. A normal family. Francis as a fatherly figure. Alfred tried his best to repress a shudder that ran through him at that. Would his child have to face their sibling in war some day? Without ever knowing they spilt common blood?

They stayed like this for many minutes - or perhaps, it was only a few. All Alfred could focus on was the sleek white stone behind his sobbing wife, and how it matched the shade of Ivan’s soft skin so well.

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The next day, a hasty assembly was called in Diamonds after sending a letter bearing the news back to Yao. The announcement was made, and the oblivious diamonds more or less indifferent, although they forged excitement and cheer for the sake of courtesy. Yet there was one face in that vast audience who was not plastering on a fake smile.

The previous night, when Alice had gone to confront Francis, Alfred had come to the realization that he simply couldn’t go find Ivan that night. He had remembered the tender kiss the man had placed to his head, how soft and safe he had made Alfred feel, even if he claimed it was a kiss of friendship. Alfred could not let that memory of that day be tainted. So he chose cowardice, and had waited until the present.

When he glanced into the sea of people now, one stood out, drowning.

His lavender eyes, usually so full of light and life, looked like shallow glass.

As soon as the customary speeches had ended, Alfred bolted off of the stage, flying towards the man. But when they were out of sight of the others, Ivan turned and looked at Alfred dead on. Alfred felt goosebumps coat his arms, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention.

“That is rather incestuous behavior for your so-called ‘sister’.”

“Ivan.” Alfred swallowed dryly, all words flying back and forth through his mind, his focus already wandering when peering into that oh-so-lovely yet furious face of his.

“While I knew you Spades bastards were lowly, I never expected this kind of relationship from you,” he spat. “Your majesty.”

Alfred blinked. “What?”

“One full of lies and manipulation.” Ivan began to turn. “And I, as a fool, played into it. Exposing my secrets for you to exploit. Exposing my body for you to rest on. Exposing my feelings for you to spit on.” The disgust in his voice was palpable vinegar, the sour stench permeating the air. 

This brought Alfred to attention. He forced himself out of his stunned stupor, and with a start, grabbed Ivan by the shoulder roughly. Before Ivan could angrily shrug him off, Alfred spun him around and smashed his lips to the other’s.

Ivan tried to gasp, but all this did was open his mouth, allowing for Alfred to deepen the kiss. He thread his sun-darkened hands roughly through Ivan’s platinum hair, backing them up until the King of Clubs was pressed against the wall. And to his delight, after a few moments of shock, Ivan gave a soft moan and pressed back, one hand cupping Alfred’s chin and the other pressed urgently against the small of his back. Alfred shifted so his leg pushed Ivan’s open slightly, before his lips dropped to his neck, hot breath ghosting over the flesh not being covered by the scarf nestled there. But as soon as it started, the kiss was over - broken by Ivan roughly shoving Alfred away and punching him square in the jaw.

Pain tore from the contact, ripping upwards as he stumbled back, giving a shout and cradling his shattered mouth. Blood oozed from where he could feel two teeth broken, and to his disgust, a fragment of bone. He stared at Ivan in blank shock as Ivan spat something in a language foreign to Alfred’s ears and smashed his fist into the wall next to him, cracking the tiles and splitting his knuckles. Bright crimson liquid poured down his pale hand, a finger bent out of shape and skin torn. He raised his furious gaze to Alfred, screaming incoherently in his native tongue before Alfred spoke, blood gurgling from his mouth as he did.

“It’s Francis’s kid.”

Ivan abruptly stopped, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Neither spoke for a few long moments.

“Alice and Francis have a thing for each other. I found out last night, when I got back from our trip.”

The two men gazed at each other before Alfred gave a small hiccup and his eyes squinted, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as his mouth broke into the shape it does when one just can’t hold in sorrow any longer.

“I wanted to f-find you - I j-just didn’t want you t-to  _ hate  _ me, Ivan, p-please don’t-”

Alfred was cut off as he turned to the side and heaved, vomit splattering the floor. He dropped to his knees and retched over and over again while weeping uncontrollably, until he could feel nothing left in his empty stomach. He vaguely realized Ivan had his arms wrapped strongly around him, one hand holding his hair back while the other rubbed his stomach softly. Alfred turned to press his tear-stained and vomit-messy face into Ivan’s uniform, howling into Ivan’s chest as he clung desperately to the thick hair on the nape of his neck, his broad shoulders,  _ anything _ .

“I’ll h-have to raise this child - lying about everything - I don’t want a child, I’m only a kid, I-I j-just  _ can’t _ -”

He gagged once more at these words, expelling puke he didn’t even know still resided in him, onto Ivan’s crisp outfit. Ivan didn’t seem to mind, though. He simply gathered the smaller man into his arms, tucking a blood-stained lock of honey hair behind his ear, not saying anything as he cradled his shaking frame into his broad chest. Alfred felt himself losing consciousness. Before he could completely pass out, however, he felt the man press a small kiss to his ear, murmuring something Alfred couldn’t distinguish in his fatigued haze.

And then, there was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I haven't responded to your comments - I plan to! Just heeeella busy.
> 
> No translations.
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> His skin was soft and cleansed, pores clean and dirt scrubbed away. He felt weightless in the soft material he was wrapped so tenderly in, tucked into the large bed with mounds of fluffy blankets piled atop his weak and trembling frame.


	9. (Announcement)

Hey, readers!!

I'm sorry to say this, but there will be a delay for this next chapter. This week has been pretty overwhelming for me, so next chapter will be released next Friday.

I apologize - it isn't usually my style to do this, but right now I'm facing a writer's block and trying to do requests and such to get around it before delving back into such serious writing, since I have some more planned for this story and I want it to be executed and written well for respect to both you and me. I'm also facing copious amounts of work at home, so bear with me, hah.

Thank you for your comments and encouragement! TCoC is NOT over, this week I just need a recess to get over this damn writer's block.

 

Cheers,  
Chip


	10. Conscious

**_Chapter 9_ **

  
  
  


Alfred woke from the heavy sleep and squinted as he felt sunshine pry at his eyes.

His skin was soft and cleansed, pores clean and dirt scrubbed away. He felt weightless in the soft material he was wrapped so tenderly in, tucked into the large bed with mounds of fluffy blankets piled atop his weak and trembling frame.

He shifted and let out a small groan, hand moving to examine his jaw. It seemed to be recently bandaged, as the bandages still felt fresh and clean. His stomach hurt as well, but the thing that was the most unnerving was how  _ weak _ he felt.

He tried to pinch his arm as hard as he could. It felt like a gentle squeeze.

He tried to reach for his glasses. The strain on his shoulder forced him to lay still.

He tried to push himself up to a sitting position on the bed. His arms shook violently before collapsing.

Alfred sighed angrily. This was irking him more than it should. He always prided himself on his physical condition, being strong and handsome. When he was younger, his father had told him that when he would become king, he would be like a hero to their kingdom, protecting them from danger. That had always stuck with Alfred since. He had taken the idea of being a protector, a hero, and lavished it.

He grunted a little, a bitter feeling creeping through him. Some hero he was. He couldn’t seem to protect anybody - his parents, Yao, Alice.

Ivan.

At the thought of the other man, Alfred noticed something stirring next to him. He glanced down, and the sight he was met with made his heart clench. 

Ivan was asleep at the side of his bed, sitting on a chair and body hunched over so that his head rested on the very edge of the mattress. Alfred glanced down to see his hand, the one he had punched the wall with, was wrapped in a bandage as well. He was shivering slightly in the chilly morning air, breath coming out in little twirling puffs of steam before dissipating. His clothes were a wreck and his hair was matted and filthy. Alfred ran a shaky hand through his own - it was fluffy and still slightly damp, which means it must have been washed fairly recently. Ivan’s usually porcelain skin looked even paler, a sickeningly white hue matching a little too closely with that of a corpse’s for Alfred’s comfort. His mind felt cold and numb as he reached down to tangle his own clean fingers in the greasy hair, gently trying to untangle knots the best he could with only one hand and a compromised position. After a few moments of this, though, Ivan’s eyes fluttered open and locked to Alfred’s.

The two men just looked at each other.

The sunlight shifted through the window and the room seemed to grow a little brighter. Perhaps a cloud was covering the sky above them and moved away.

Some exotic bird whistled and clacked outside.

Silence. A cough.

Feeling awkward, Alfred tried to raise his chest up so he was propped against the board, but his weakened body gave out and he fell back abruptly, the back of his head slapping the bed frame. He let out a jumbled slur of profanities under his breath before Ivan was there in an instant, cradling his head.

“Are you all right?”

Alfred gave a strained chuckle at that.

“Dandy. Stellar.” His speech was slurred from the bandage on his jaw.

Ivan retracted his hand as if Alfred’s head had grown to be scorching. Alfred sniffed a little, irritated.

“That doesn’t mean you can just back off like that. You kind of owe me some TLC, big guy.”

Ivan’s cheeks grew a little red at that, but his face set into something more serious. “I punched you.”

“Yeah. Happens a lot to me.”

“I called you a bastard.”

“Also a reoccurring thing.”

“I… are you… okay with this? With what happened?”

“Well, I mean, I’ll  _ forgive _ you, but try not to punch me again an-”

Ivan’s face instantly set to steel, frost hardening the tips of his mouth downward. “Ah. I see. Do you remember everything?”

Alfred scratched his ear. Why was Ivan so upset? He was forgiving the guy for punching him. Ivan had called him some nasty shit before Alfred-

Oh. Ah.

Right.

Alfred glanced at Ivan again to find that Ivan’s face had changed very slightly. Instead of cool anger, there was… sadness. Disappointment.

Alfred couldn’t  _ stand _ that look. It didn’t suit him. So before Ivan could say anything else, Alfred beckoned him closer. Ivan looked confused, but Alfred’s hand waved a bit more frantically, insisting. Ivan relented and moved in cautiously until he was a few inches from Alfred’s face.

When within reach so that his arms won’t give out on him, Alfred pulled Ivan by the collar and placed a small and gentle kiss to his lips before moving back. 

Ivan stood there, stupefied. Alfred sent him a cocky grin.

“What I meant to say,” Alfred continued, smugness laced in his voice. “Was that I’ll forgive you for you not kissing me, and not kissing me sooner. But only ‘cause I’m such a great guy and everything.”

Ivan’s face melted into the most heartwarming smile Alfred had ever seen, relief seeming to pour out of him. The older man laid a head on Alfred’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. Alfred gave a small rumble of laughter and continued to thread his fingers through the other’s filthy hair, continuing his previous task of de-knotting it.

“Now, you owe me some information, your majesty.”

Alfred felt Ivan chuckle a little at that.

“Fair. You have been out for six days now.”

His smile shrunk. Before he could even get to the next question, Ivan was there.

“We told the people and council that we needed two week’s intermission for planning in Spades, seeing as Alice…”

He trailed off, obviously afraid of Alfred’s reaction. Alfred tried to only focus on the pale head of hair in front of him for the time being.

“All right. So, I missed six out of the fourteen days of our vacation?”

Alfred felt Ivan’s smile return against his chest.

“Alice and Francis have been spending much time together. I’ve been tending to you here. I’ve wrapped your injuries, and every day at around seven, I replace them. And every other day, I… you’re, um. Bathed.”

Alfred shook his head slightly. “Ivan, have you bathed yourself?”

“I haven’t had time.”

“You’ve taken care of me.”

“That’s different. What happened to you is my-”

He cut himself off. Took a few breaths. Then he continued.

“You are injured and in my care.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “You’re going to take a bath, and  _ right now _ .”

“ Нет.”

“If you don’t, I won’t either.”

“You are like a child.”

“I am a child.”

Ivan gave an exasperated sigh before lifting his head and walking to the bathroom. “You are so annoying.”

“I’m so right, and you know it. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I am fine.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

No response. Ivan was probably pretending he couldn’t hear him.

Alfred shifted some more until he was more comfortable, and listened to the sound of the shower in the other room. Even after sleeping for 6 days straight, he was beginning to feel drowsiness tug at him again.

After a few more minutes of the sound of water hitting marble and Alfred’s eyes gradually creeping shut, the water shut off and Ivan walked into the room, towelling his hair.

Only one towel. On his hair.

Alfred’s eyes snapped shut. “You haven’t even brought me drinks yet!”

Ivan laughed a little. “It’s only nudity, little one. Nudity can have clean intentions.”

“Ew, just hurry up and get dressed, you creep.”

“I have seen you.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me! That doesn’t count because I was unconscious.”

Ivan laughed again. “I never would have taken you as a puritan.”

“I’m not! I’ve… you know. Done it before.”

“If you are still referring to it as ‘it’, I find that hard to believe.”

“Just shut up and hurry.”

A few more moments passed with the sound of clothes ruffling before it stopped.

“Is it safe for me to look without my eyes getting scorched now?”

No answer came. Alfred was about to open his eyes anyways, consequences be damned, before he felt the covers lift and Ivan crawl into bed. Alfred’s hand found his (clothed) chest, and pulled it to him.

“Isn’t this better? Being clean?”

Ivan flicked his shoulder lightly. “Isn’t this better? Being conscious?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ivan turned to face the other way and Alfred wrapped his arms around his middle, spooning him to his chest. “What was that for, anyways? Exhaustion?”

“Да, that and stress, most likely.”

Ivan pushed himself back so that he was flush against Alfred. Alfred leaned forward so that his nose rested gently on Ivan’s shoulder. Their breathing became quiet and tranquil as the two just listened to each other.

“Is it okay if I fall asleep again?”

Ivan entwined his fingers in Alfred’s. “I would not complain.”

So Alfred let himself drift away from consciousness again, content warm and filling him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update!
> 
> Translations:  
> нет - "No"  
> да - "Yes"
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> "Your majesty!"  
> A servant burst into their quarters without a knock. Alfred glanced up, prepared to scold him for the inappropriate action, before he spoke.  
> "It's Alice!"


	11. Surreal

**Chapter 10**

 

“I’m going to visit Alice.”

Ivan glanced up from his book at hearing this. The two were enjoying each other’s company in the library of Diamonds - a small place that was hardly ever used, since the servants in the palace couldn’t read and the royals were often too busy to. They had locked the door for good measure, to make sure that nobody would walk in on them in case someone had tried to go there for some reason. It wouldn’t be suspicious, as the bypasser would probably just assume the cleaner was in there or something. The two men had spent the morning there, watching the sun rise through the large glass window that made up an entire wall of the nook and reading. The silence was disturbed, however, at Alfred’s announcement.

“All right. I believe she is with Francis,” Ivan said softly, as to not break the moment more.

He stood and placed a soft kiss to Ivan’s cheek before walking out to go find her.

Alfred hadn’t visited Alice since she came to see him when he still couldn’t walk. She had been relieved that he was all right, albeit a little shocked when she found out the nature of the two Kings’ relationship, but happy for Alfred nonetheless. From that day, she had brought him a hot cup of tea every morning before she went off with Francis until he was strong enough to walk and get one himself. Alfred wasn’t bitter about being left behind for Francis - he knew how important this was to her, and the time in Diamonds they all shared was drawing to a close.

Alfred swallowed dryly. Every day, the window of opportunity he had with Ivan grew shorter.

How could they maintain this if they never saw each other? Or wrote to each other? It would be too suspicious. He figured they’d meet for individual conferences on occasion, but they’d privately only have a hours together, at best. For monthly intervals.

But then again… this conference  _ was _ annual.

Alfred smiled as he thought about it. They’d just have to make it work.

He continued down the hallway and turned into the small courtyard, as Alice had instructed him to do if he ever needed to find her. Then, he ducked under the large branch of the maze hedge and went straight, left, left, right, straight, straight, and right.

And there the two were.

They were playing some sort of game involving sticks and dice, and were sharing a blanket to fight the morning chill. Francis had his arms draped over Alice’s shivering frame to try to provide her with some warmth. She looked damp from the dew and was bickering with Francis over the rules of the game.

And she was the happiest Alfred had ever seen her.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, and their heads swiveled to greet him. When they saw it was only him and not a palace guard or something of that sort, they slumped forward a bit as the tense moment fled. Alice stood to give Alfred a hug. He embraced it fully - he hadn’t seen her in a few days, since he’d been able enough to get around on his own. She sighed and pressed her head to his shoulder as she gripped him tightly.

“Feeling better, are you?”

Alfred smiled into her hair. “Yeah. Ivan’s been spoiling me.”

She tensed a bit in his arms before relaxing again and letting him go.

“I honestly don’t understand how you would court him. Haven’t you heard what the palace has said about him?”

Alfred hummed a little at that, his face growing stony. That was a large topic of discussion during Alfred’s recovery. Ivan had spoken greatly of his warped childhood in Clubs. His parents had forced him to murder since he was a child, and court much older women to gain influence over them by the age of fifteen. Alfred remembered how his eyes had grown glassy when speaking about the feel of wrinkled and warbled fingers stroking his bare chest, or the warm stench of iron and blood. 

His heart clenched. He had grown up believing Ivan had done all of those things willingly without even giving a second thought to the fact that the convict was a mere child.

“I have. Out of context.”

Alice must have heard the edge in his voice. She quickly let the topic drop.

Alfred stepped forward to her and placed a hand on her stomach. It was still flat at the moment, with no movement or signs of life. Alfred closed his eyes as he tried to imagine a child there. He was lucky that he and Francis shared traits such as blue eyes or blonde hair - if Alice had produced a brunette, it would have been hard to explain if their child sported dark hair amidst their fair parents. But this would be a relatively easy lie to pull off.

Alice batted his hand away after a few moments. He knew why she didn’t like to think about it, as he was the same way. While his and Ivan’s relationship was incredibly dangerous, if Alice and Francis were ever discovered, it could give the two kingdoms an excuse to relieve their decade old tensions with one another and go to war.

Alfred felt goosebumps coat his arms. The four kingdoms were experiencing an era of peace. He didn’t want to be the ruler to break that.

Francis shifted uncomfortably in the back. It was clear that three was a crowd.

“I think I’ll be heading back. I just wanted to let ya know I’m with the living again.” Alfred turned to go.

“All right. Come get me if you need anything, you hear?” Alice said, before she and Francis picked their game back up.

Alfred nodded before realizing he was out of sight. He knew what a toll this was going to take on Alice - not being able to see the father of her child for months on end. But Alfred was glad that Francis, among other things, was a relatively good man. He sighed as he ambled back to his quarters in the castle. Alfred decided he wanted to be alone for a while.

______________________________________________________________________

 

After about fifteen minutes, his peace was once again interrupted.

"Your majesty!"

A servant burst into his quarters without a knock. Alfred glanced up, prepared to scold him for the inappropriate action, before he spoke.

"It's Alice!"

Alfred bolted up and let the servant quickly lead him to the garden. To his horror, the servant took the same route he had but only a few minutes ago - the secret route to reach Alice and Francis.

He ducked under the clearing. And his eyes landed on his wife.

Decapitated.

Her body was broken, strewn on the ground like some discarded piece of clothing. The head lay a few feet away, eyes open and glossy. The sickening stench of blood permeated the air, thick and heavy, suffocating him. The Jack of Diamonds stood close by, clutching a bloodied sword and screaming at Francis.

Francis, whose face looked green and hollow.

“You’ve been fucking the Queen of Spades? You filthy son of a bitch! I have half the mind to reap you, too. What, do you hunger for warfare? Because if so, get ready for a fucking feast!”

Francis just stood there, looking like a walking corpse. His eyes wouldn’t leave Alice.

Alice. The bearer of his child.

As the revelation fully hit him, Alfred stumbled back, hitting the hedge behind him. He faintly heard the Jack of Diamonds screeches continue.

“-that filthy unfaithful bitch’s husband! Bring him to me! I’ll take care of him now, teach him to put a collar on his whore of a wife-”

The servant looked up at Alfred. Alfred looked back, feeling the world spin around him and a roar in his ears. It was taking all of his energy to stand right now - there was no way he could fight back if the servant grabbed him.

The two stood there for a few quiet moments before the servant grabbed his hand and shoved him towards the castle.

“Go. You’re a good person, from what I’ve seen, and I don’t want to be responsible. Go, run, quickly.”

Alfred looked at him for a second more before nodding and stumbling his way to the castle. He knew he had to leave, but he had to find Ivan first, had to say goodbye.

To his surprise, he met Ivan in the courtyard. Ivan held him fast, almost lifted him in his strong embrace. Alfred could barely hear his soft words in his ears from the surreal thundering.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, дорогой. You need to go.”

Alfred faintly felt himself be hoisted over Ivan’s back as Ivan began to sprint to the carriages. But it was too late.

Guards blocked their way, holding Ivan at swordpoint as more came from behind him.

“Halt, King of Clubs. The Jack of Diamonds has ordered the arrest of this man. Why do you carry him? Put him down, now.”

Ivan froze under Alfred. Alfred knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it, but if he didn’t, he’d be killed. Alfred couldn’t accept that. So he kneed Ivan hard in the gut. Ivan grunted and his grip on Alfred loosened, allowing Alfred to slide down from his shoulders and shove him away.

“Don’t touch me! Let me go! I won’t go to the Jack, you can’t force me!”

The guards’ faces shifted from confusion to understanding. Two stepped forward to restrain Alfred, a third one pinning him to the ground and holding a sword over his throat to keep him still. A fourth turned to Ivan.

“You were retrieving him. We commend you for such a noble action to the court.”

Ivan didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on Alfred’s now stilled form.

Alfred gazed back, unabashed. This didn’t feel real. His life was so out of his control now that he didn’t even feel solid.

He felt the ringing in his ears start to consume him as he heard snippets of conversation from the world around him.

“...Brother! What is the matter?”

“... courting the Queen of Spades…”

“...execution?”

“That would be best. “

“...I shall do… you please…”

“... thank you, sister. You are a…”

He felt himself be shackled and lead away, one hand on the small of his back. He glanced over his shoulder.

Ivan, who was being clapped on the back by the Jack and kissed on the cheek by the Queen, had a tear rolling down his cheek.

Then Alfred was forced to turn and the sight ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late!
> 
> Translations:  
> дорогой - "Darling" in Russian
> 
> Hint for next chapter:  
> "Hello, my Jack."  
> Yao glanced through the metal bars for only a moment before he started to hysterically laugh. Alfred joined in, wheezing.  
> "This is hardly an appropriate way to greet your king, sir."


	12. Anticipation

**Chapter 11**

 

The King of Spades listened to the sound of drops of water splattering against the cool stone floor of his cell, as he had for what seemed like months now.

He lay against the wall, his body weak and frail from malnutrition. He wiped a sheen of cold sweat from the back of his neck, wondering exactly how long he’d spent in isolation ever since he was taken, now regretting stopping scratching ticks into the wall after day forty-five. He was tired, hungry, dehydrated, and filthy.

But above all that, he was so  _ lonely _ .

All of the time now presented to him yielded to lots of thought and brooding. He wondered how his kingdom was doing at war without their royalty. He and Alice produced no heirs, which meant Yao must have stepped in for the both of him. He shivered slightly, only beginning to imagine what a toll that must be taking on his lifelong friend. Alfred thought deeply on how he’s failed everyone - his parents, his wife, his child, his kingdom.

And Ivan.

Ivan crossed his mind frequently in his confinement. Sometimes, when he was trying to fall asleep, he’d drape an arm over his waist and try to picture the King of Clubs holding him comfortingly. It never really worked, and it only made him feel worse, but he still did it for some reason.

Simply at thinking about this, his heart gave an angry yank. He sighed, curling his fingers, paled from lack of sun, over his throbbing chest. He was too dehydrated to shed tears for any of his loved ones, but he could still feel the burning hurt that forcefully coursed through his veins. 

An all too familiar sound of the creak of the wooden door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Was it time for dinner already?

But no, instead he was met with the sight of three guards dragging a man into the room, and another pointing their sword at Alfred, giving a jerk of his head for him to press back against the wall. Alfred did as told, having no fantasy of escaping, and his cell door was unlocked to have the man thrown in before being slammed shut again. The guards quickly filed back out, leaving the two men alone.

The new prisoner lifted his head, and Alfred’s jaw dropped.

It was Yao.

His face was thinned from stress and paled, and his small frame shaking. Gray streaks of hair mixed thickly with black ones, framing his sharp jaw and thinned lips. The two men stared at each other, entranced, until the moment was broken by Alfred speaking.

"Hello, my Jack."

Yao glanced through the metal bars for only a moment before he started to hysterically laugh. Alfred joined in, wheezing, as Yao returned his gaze back to him.

"This is hardly an appropriate way to greet your king, sir."

That only caused Yao to laugh harder before pulling Alfred into a bone-crushing hug. Alfred returned it fully, bubbles of nostalgia pooling in his gut as he remembered the night of his marriage to Alice, when the two had shared such an intimate moment like this. But then, they’d been confined to the shackles of respect and status - now there was only sweet, cool relief that soothed the burns of hurt. Yao pushed his head against Alfred’s chest, listening to the strong heartbeat through his ragged shirt. Alfred gently carded a hand through his friend’s hair.

“I thought they’d killed you.”

Alfred gulped dryly at hearing the pain that laced the Jack’s voice. He dropped a hand to rub Yao’s back, trying to search for a way to provide comfort to his disturbed friend. He settled for humming a little and placing soft lips to Yao’s forehead. A symbol so much like a brother that he felt his eyes burn with dry tears.

The two stayed like this for quite some time until Yao fell asleep in Alfred’s arms. Alfred leaned gently back until he was laying down, still protectively holding his friend, as if to shield him from the hellish future they both faced. He knew that this means that Spades had been taken by Diamonds, and that it must have buckled from lack of central leadership.

If he wasn’t dead yet, he knew it must be for a reason. They were saving him for something, probably a show of power.

He tried to force the thoughts out of his mind as he held his warm friend close and felt himself slipping from consciousness. 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“We’ve done it.”

The conference room was silent, leaving the words to permeate the air. After five straight months of fighting, Diamonds had finally marched straight into the heart of Spades and dragged the Jack to his knees. Vash’s eyes shone with unbridled pride at this statement, his sister’s expression matching closely as she looped an arm through his.

Francis’s face remained hollow and distant, as it had been ever since he laid eyes on Alice’s decapitated head that fateful day. The Queen and Jack of Clubs gave a weak smile to appease the roaming eyes of the Diamonds royalty, hands laced under the table in reassurance.

Ivan couldn’t feel his hands. His eyes remained locked on the table.

“This requires the next stage in our plans.” Lili paced quickly through the room as she continued her prepared speech, eyes sparkling maliciously. “We completely remodel the decor of the castle, and replace the statues with that of Diamonds leaders. Now we have more power over Hearts, as we claim monopoly on agriculture.” She turned and clapped her hands, facing the others. “Naturally, you Clubs will receive a portion of all profit, as you provided military assistance to our siege.” Her sweet smile widened. “And of course, none of this would have been possible without your capture of Alfred, Ivan.”

The numbness crept up his neck, making his head and chest fuzzy and cold.

“Now, for the cherry on the cake.” She glanced to Vash, and he gave a swift nod. “We

publically execute the Jack and King of Spades as a way to solidity our power.”

A shadow must have passed over the sun, as the room seemed to darken. Elizabeta

squeezed her lover’s hand discreetly under the table. They both knew this wasn’t write, but feared death or punishment if they spoke out.

The cold had creeped down to Ivan’s toes. He barely felt himself open his mouth.

“What a spectacular plan.” His accent was heavy and his voice hollow. “I applaud you, Jack of Diamonds, for devising such a victory and puppeteering your sister to enact it.”

Vash’s eyes flashed, and Lili turned fully to face Ivan. Her sickly smile was now replaced by a freezing expression.

“What exactly are you suggesting, King of Clubs?”

Elizabeta shot him a sideways glance. He ignored it, instead turning his gaze back down to his clenched hands. His nails pricked his palm, small beads of blood blotting. He remained silent.

“Are you giving me a reason to suspect disloyalty to your allies,  _ Ivan _ ?”

Ivan flinched. Nobody had called him by his name since…

No. He couldn’t bring himself to think of him. Not now.

“Because you know I am only doing this for my Kingdom. The Queen of Spades committed a crime - we can’t bend the rules for love, or anything emotional. Rules bring discipline, and discipline brings great nations. Now both our nations and the former Kingdom of Spades will flourish - we’ll pick their ruined economy up like some sick dog from the gutter. We have accomplished great things, your majesty.”

Ivan forced a breath in. A breath out. Tried not to think of the past five months of hell - of not having the one person in his life who cared for him. Or the months before that. Or the future. Only now. Now, now, now.

“I understand. I apologize for my outburst, your majesty.”

Lili gave a small nod of approval. “I do not understand what’s been the matter with you as of late. You’ve been in this… state ever since Alfred was arr-”

She stopped, eyes widening slightly, a flicker of realization briefly flashing. Ivan kept his eyes on his bloody palm, focusing on the beautiful crimson hue of the droplets. Vash cleared his throat, his voice icy.

“For the execution,” he continued softly, like a deep purr. “I believe it would be best to make it a grand event. Maybe it can take place in the ballroom. We can throw a marvelous feast - invite the aristocrats to witness the fall of Spades once and for all, yes? But who shall do the honors?”

“Do not give that lowly Jack the respect of having his death be memorable,” Lili said shortly. “He’s caused us much pain and suffering. Simply have a guard dispose of him. But for Alfred,” she continued, eyes shifting to Ivan. “I believe the man who made all of this possible should have the pleasure.”

Vash looked to Lili, then to Ivan, and back to Lili. His face twitched for a moment with thought.

“Hmm, yes. That would appropriate.”

Lili smiled, but guilt seemed to be laced there. “Wonderful. It shall occur in two days time, yes? Francis, any objections?”

Francis, as usual, gave no reply. Not even an acknowledgement that they were there.

Lili shifted for a moment before nodding swiftly.

“A pleasure as usual, all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the home stretch! Thank you all for the wonderful feedback and comments! I've learned a lot from this fic. 
> 
> No translations for this chapter.  
> No hints for next chapter - I'm keeping you all in the dark!


	13. Compassion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY READERS!  
> Check ending note, please!

**Chapter 12**

 

“Get up.”

Alfred’s eyes cracked open at a rough shake of his bony shoulder before being dragged to his feet. The guard firmly clasped his shoulder with one hand and pinned his thinned wrists behind him with the other. Yao blinked and tensed at having his companion ripped so suddenly from him while he slept, but didn’t protest as another guard confined him in a similar manner. The two prisoners were led out of their cell without another word - Alfred didn’t have time to say goodbye to the place where he had spent nearly half of a year. It was a whirl of stone and musk, and then the blinding white of the marble hallways.

The four strode briskly through the castle, and Alfred felt his wrist losing circulation from the guard’s tight grip. He almost laughed at the ridiculous notion that he’d even try to escape. Judging from his now visible rib cage and concave stomach, he reckoned he’d lost more than a few pounds while staying there. And Yao’s state wasn’t much better. The poor man shook with stress-induced fatigue for having to simply walk at a quickened pace. It hurt Alfred to see him like this, so he instead opted to look out of the towering French windows.

They were open today. White curtains snapped upwards and billowed in the balmy breeze, reaching towards the lavish carved ceiling of a creamed marble. The sea sparkled outside, glittering and rippling in the gentle summer wind, the sky cloudless and infinite. Pale sand dunes towered by the water, adding to the gentle palette of colors of Diamonds that he hadn’t seen in a lifetime.

But as soon as it happened, it was over. The guards sharply steered them into the massive ballroom.

A party was in full swing. Elites and royals were all buzzed and tipsy on success, and music was booming from the live orchestra they had playing in the back. Food was piled high on the tables - fluffy rolls and breads, thick soups and salted clams, golden turkeys and spitted pigs. Wine and champagne, plump steamed dumplings, eggs and spices and rice and other rich foods and drink were towering on platters and sparkling in glasses for the distinguished guests. But as soon as the group entered, the room orchestra sputtered out and all eyes turned to them.

All eyes, save one pair.

The guests were leering at them, a malicious sneer laced with eager anticipation for the main entertainment. From the floor there was a small staircase leading to two elegant thrones and four other chairs placed nearby. Francis and Lili watched from their lavish seats as the guards lead the two men to the center of the room, Lili’s eyes burning with hatred upon seeing the Jack and Francis’s stare empty and fragile. From the chairs, the Diamond Jack bristled at the sight of the ragged duo. Alfred saw the Queen and Jack of Clubs watching them intently, with a warped sense of worry and guilt.

And he was there. Face gaunt and aged from stress, hair limp and uncombed, eyes downcast and hard set on the floor. He looked so pitifully out of place when placed next to the other powdered royals.

The two guards forced them to their knees. One looked to Lili for approval. She gave a swift nod, eyes trained on Yao. He drew his sword.

Alfred looked deeply into Yao’s eyes, expecting to see fear or remorse. But instead, he was met with utter exhaustion and a bleak sort of… tenderness. Yao gave a small smile and Alfred held his contact.

The sword passed through his chest with a thickening thunk as the hilt was buried to his back.

The room erupted in whistles and catcalls as Yao topped over, his blood splattering the pristine floor below them. Alfred couldn’t feel any sorrow at seeing this - all he felt was raw shock and a sickening relief that his Jack was finally out of his misery.

“And now…” Lili murmured when the room had grown quiet again. “The main event.”

She turned to Ivan and clasped his shoulder. For a few moments the taller man didn’t move until he finally stood, shoulders sagging and still refusing to look from the floor. He wordlessly took the elaborately decorated blade Vash presented to him - it was studded with diamonds, gold snaking around its hilt, no doubtedly an ancient Diamonds heirloom. Anyone throughout the entire palace could hear a pin drop, and the air was thick with a suffocatingly tense anticipation as Ivan’s footsteps echoed throughout the room. When he reached the bottom of the stair and finally stood before Alfred, he raised the sword. And Alfred caught his gaze.

His eyes were still the same color as he remembered. He still had the same large nose and rough features as he did the day so long ago that Alfred first met him.

His arms wavered, at the perfect angle to plunge the blade deep into his chest. Alfred gave him a small smile of encouragement. He knew it was what he had to do.

Something shifted deep within Ivan at that very moment. He lowered the sword and let it drop with a clang that seemed to echo deafeningly. Then, he dropped to a knee and kissed Alfred wordlessly, holding his face in his hands.

The world stood still for a moment, frozen by such a display of gentleness in such a barbaric scene. Ivan broke away slowly.

Alfred glanced up into Ivan’s face and began to laugh. Peals of laughter echoed across the silent throne room before Ivan’s guffaws boomed along side his. Gasps and wheezes swelled within the sparkling castle before eventually fading to silent tears of mirth. Alfred pressed a gentle hand to wipe the drop streaking down Ivan’s pale skin.

“You really are one crazy bastard, Braginsky.”

There was only a moment more before the room erupted in a carnal fury. Alfred could no longer understand the words that were crashing into him, booming like a canon and crackling like static. All he could understand was the sight of a sword being plunged through Ivan’s skin as if it were butter, and moments after, the searing rip in his soul that erupted as a blade skewered his lung.

He fell against Ivan, gasping desperately for breath. His vision was coated in red and black, and whenever he closed his eyes for some relief, blotches of white danced across his vision. Every time he tried to take a breath the pain only increased, and the feeling of something foreign and cold seated deep inside of his chest forced him to shake violently as he felt Ivan slide to the floor next to him. The ballroom was a pit of flies and carnage - beasts dressed in silk and glitter ran rampant, smashing glasses and screeching as they swarmed over each other like some vicious pack of wasps. They thundered out of the room, away from the memory of their proclaimed hero showing such intimacy to their sworn enemy, the same lust that drove their rulership and power now brought and exposed before their eyes in the form of a merciful love. The animalistic screams of fury echoed further and further down the hallway as the royals scrambled away to bury themselves in their headquarters for protection against possible uprisings.

The ballroom was silent once again now, save the trickle and gurgle of blood streaming from Alfred’s lips and Ivan’s darkened chest. Alfred’s matted brown rags were now a dark buff from the crimson liquid, thick and heavy and metallic. And Ivan’s lovely pressed uniform was now completely ruined - his holy white sash of honor now a soft pink as it mingled with his very human blood. Alfred forced his fingers to move to find Ivan’s, slipping in between and feeling the slick outline of his bloody palm. Ivan gasped and wheezed for some sort of solace - Alfred figured the sword had found his heart. He laughed a little before it morphed into a ragged and torn cough, blood splattering his shirt.

“We didn’t know each other for very long, huh?”

Ivan simply hacked and panted in response, desperately fighting for life. Alfred hummed a little.

“I suppose that doesn’t matter. Do you regret this?”

Ivan’s chest was growing stilled, his breathing shallow and a broken moan leaving him. But he somehow managed to squeeze Alfred’s hand gently in response.

_Do you regret this?_

The sunlight shone through the shimmering arched windows, making the floor sparkle and glint beautifully. The taste of luxury was in the air, combatted by the thick heavy metallic stench of blood that was so disgustingly human in such a pure place.

_Do you regret this?_

Their lives were that of corrupted ones - humanity trickling into the faults of the blessed royalty. Love, in the end, what sent the riches and lavish tumbling down and crashing back to Earth. Cupid had chiseled away the foundation of the seemingly perfect house of cards until what remained was a sad pile of failures and carnage.

_Do you regret this?_

Yet the other king’s message had been clear as he squeezed the other’s hand and let his chest drop and still permanently, the other following suit after yielding a small smile.

_Do you regret this?_

_No._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I would like to thank all of the wonderful commenters on this. It's just… indescribable how valuable that was to me.
> 
> I learned a lot from this story! I think some experiences I’ve gained taught me:  
> -How to improve my plot writing  
> -How to improve my character dialogue  
> -Not to write it the day-of – write it all before and edit it  
> -How to improve my description  
> -How to improve pacing
> 
> And I’m very happy to announce my next two projects I have planned! I’m not sure which one I’ll begin first - if you have a preference, let me know - but they are:
> 
> A Hunger Games AU
> 
> Centered around all main/semi main characters (not just Alfred/Ivan biased). This will be a very angst heavy one, but I’ll have a blast writing it - I’ll let people place bets on who will be the last three alive in the beginning and whoever has the closest guess will get a free longshot request from me!  
> and
> 
> A Historical RusAme AU
> 
> We need some more good historical RusAme! I’m deeply in love with the two countries’ histories together, so this will be an absolute blast to write and research! Very excited to do this one.  
> A warning that these will probably not surface for a while, though - the most you’ll be seeing from me for an undetermined period of time in terms of writing for now is finishing the requests and an occasional oneshot. These will take time to plan, research, write, and edit fully. But I promise to deliver my best when they come!
> 
> Thank you all again! I hope I did not anger/upset anyone with the ending of this fic. If you have writing tips/suggestions/complaints/anything, please don’t be afraid to send me a message.
> 
> Cheers!


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